


the king on the chessboard

by ornategrip



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Multi, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-14
Updated: 2012-01-14
Packaged: 2017-10-29 12:01:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/319676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ornategrip/pseuds/ornategrip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Renard is the King of Portland. He makes sure Nick and Monroe know this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the king on the chessboard

**Author's Note:**

> For this [prompt](http://grimm-kink.livejournal.com/452.html?thread=403396#t403396) on the grimm kink meme.
> 
> AKA the fic I wrote while my brain was screaming 'holy crap, you're writing noncon!" over and over again.

Renard is sitting in the leather wingbacked chair like a king on his throne. This is not his house but he owns it all the same, the same way he owns all of Portland, owns each and every creature that resides it in. It may stink of Blutbad but Renard knows that underneath, so deep to be imbedded into the very bones, it belongs to him.

The wolf is already on his knees, head bowed low in obeisance, while Nick looks back and forth between them, face a writ in confusion.

It’s a good look for Nick, widens his eyes and parts his pretty mouth.

“Your pet wolf knows to kneel before me.” Renard drawls lazily, letting a hint of power slip into his voice. The wolf shakes and whines and Nick steps towards him, one hand lifted in an aborted attempt to soothe. Before he can touch the wolf, Renard waves a hand and the wolf obeys instantly, crawling on his hands and knees towards him.

Renard smiles, reaches down, pets that shaggy head.

“Monroe, isn’t it.”

Not a question but the wolf chuffs out acquiescence. Nick is staring at Renard’s hand like he can’t look away. Renard knows jealousy, knows that Nick’s stomach is twisting on itself as his lover curls at Renard’s feet like a domesticated hound.

“I can hear your heartbeat, Nick, did you know that? It’s pounding so fast right now, are you afraid?”

Nick jerks his eyes away from the wolf to glare at Renard, blue eyes burning bright with fury. Beautiful.

“I’ve put up a lot with you, Nick. Running around my city, poking your nose in my business, a newborn Grimm floundering about. I keep my city clean, Nick. You make it messy.”

He leans back, pulls his fingers from the wolf’s hair to steeple his fingers together, touches his index fingers to his lips.

“But I like you, Nick. I can see that you can be useful to me, that you can help me make my city what it needs to become. So I’m going to let you run around, let you make your messes, let you clean them up.”

He shifts abruptly, no longer relaxing in the chair, sitting forward now, the tendrils of his power reaching out and lashing at every living thing in the room.

The wolf whimpers and cowers and Nick falls to his knees, shaking.

“But know this, Nick. You belong to me. Every fucking inch of you.”

He snaps his fingers and the wolf looks up, beseeching eyes meeting his.

“Take his clothes off.”

The wolf’s hands are shaking but he obeys without a word, stripping Nick who still lies stunned. Renard enjoys the view, Nick’s pale skin revealed as each layer is stripped from him. This Grimm is perfect, perfect to have, perfect to keep, perfect to mold.

“Hands and knees, Nick.”

Renard uses his _other_ voice, the one no creature, no human and very, very few Grimms can resist. Marie Kessler would have been able to, but her beloved nephew is nowhere near her caliber. He beckons him forward and Nick moves in stilted jerky movements; trying to fight the compulsion and failing miserably.

He doesn’t stop him until Nick’s face is nearly in his lap, still on his hands and knees. Renard strokes the angry line of his jaw, feels the prickle of his beard. He looks over at the wolf, sitting obediently by.

“Prep him. Use your mouth.”

The wolf wastes no time, burying his face between Nick’s ass, hands holding his cheeks apart. Nick is biting his tongue, Renard can smell the blood and knows it won’t make a difference. Nick will succumb. They always do.

The room is near silent as Renard watches, the only sound the slick-wet-obscene noises coming from where the wolf licks Nick open. Soon, that is joined by the bitten-off whimpers Nick is doing his best to choke down. Renard wants to hear him though, so he puts his hand on the back of Nick’s head, grabs him by the hair and forces his face up.

Nick’s pale skin is flushed, lips bitten cherry red. If confusion was a good look for Nick, then this, this reluctant, angry lust is exquisite on him.

Still holding Nick’s head in place, Renard looks up at the wolf, still busy between Nick’s legs.

“Fuck the noises out of him.” He orders, and the wolf is shuffling back, undoing his jeans, taking his hard cock out.

The wolf spits on his palm and then glances at Renard. Renard nods; he’ll allow it. It’s the work of a moment to slick himself up and then the wolf is mounting Nick, sliding in slowly because this wolf cares for Nick. Renard is willing to use that and will, but for now, he permits the wolf his idiosyncrasies.

Once he’s inside though, the wolf knows better than to start slow, simply begins thrusting into Nick, pounding into him. Nick starts grunting almost immediately, strangled cries come within minutes and then  
Nick is keening, arms shaking where he braces himself on the floor. His mouth is open and wet, saliva dripping down his chin.

Renard takes his cock out of his trousers and feeds it into Nick’s panting mouth. It’s warm and wet and Nick keeps staring at him with those eyes, those furious, angry eyes. It’s perfect and he sinks his fingers into Nick’s thick black hair and forces him up and down.

It isn’t long after that.

Renard comes first, deep down Nick’s throat, holding him in place and making him swallow him down. Then he allows the wolf to come, to fill Nick up and make him shake.

“Hold him up.” He tells the wolf after his orgasm, “Stay inside him and hold him up.”

The wolf knows exactly what he means and Renard makes a note to keep him around, not just as a tool to use against the Grimm. Good servants are hard to find and this one serves very well indeed. The wolf wraps one arm around Nick’s waist, hauls them both up on their knees. Nick is on display, body arching out, cock red, hard and jutting.

“Make him come.”

The wolf goes to work, wrapping one hand around Nick’s cock, stroking it firmly as Nick writhes on the wolf’s still hard dick. It only takes a handful of strokes before Nick cries out and comes under Renard’s watchful eye, shaking, wrecked and beautiful.

The two men collapse on the floor at Renard’s feet, panting and sweaty and utterly Renard’s. He takes their mingled scents in with bone deep sense of satisfaction.

He stands, tugs at his sleeves, straightens out his clothes.

“I’ll let you keep your pet, Nick. He seems good for you, a little taste of responsibility.”

He reaches down, tips Nick’s red, sweaty face up with one finger on his chin even as the wolf buries his face in Nick’s back as if to avoid Renard’s gaze.

“But remember this: both of you belong to me. Forever.”

Then he leaves, straight out the door, his kingdom awaiting.


End file.
